The Only One
by TokugawaSmile
Summary: In all five lifetimes, Orihime had lost. Grimmjow/Ichigo.


I don't own Bleach, or its characters. Just this plot. Sadly.

GrimmIchi. One sided IchiHime.

_In all five lifetimes, Orihime had lost._

Orihime's POV. I think my first person is a little rusty, as I usually don't write in it. Hopefully it's not too awful.

No idea why I wrote this…. It's kind of weird.

**The Only One**

0

I have loved and lost Kurosaki Ichigo through five lifetimes.

Though we crossed paths, we would never intertwine.

But it doesn't matter. Kurosaki-kun will remain my most precious person, despite me never being his.

His heart has always belonged to Grimmjow.

0

The first.

Kurosaki-kun was a poor child living in the slums, and I was the daughter of an aristocrat. My father would take me into town and buy me little gifts when he had business and that's how I saw him, freezing cold and curled in on himself against a rundown building. He was older than I was, about ten, but only one look at his dirtied face was enough. The seed of childish affection was sown. He was beautiful to me.

From that day forward, I would sneak away from my house and into the city, trying desperately to see him again, but I almost never got my wish. That day seemed lost, like it had never happened.

It was nearly Christmas, and despite it being late, everyone was still out, walking the streets and buying what they could. I liked this weather, this bone chill, but I had coats and scarves and boots. He did not. I carried a blanket with me, in hopes I would see him again.

I passed through the streets ignorantly, not noticing when two men began to trail me. When I passed an alley, I was thrown into it, a greasy hand covering my mouth. I screamed, but nothing came out.

"Think we can sell'er?" One asks, dark, unwashed hair covering his eyes.

"Mmm, yes, she is a pretty one. We'll have to be careful, eh." A blond one, old and haggard. His eyes were hard as he stared at me, his finger's curling around my chin. Before he could kiss me, something knocked him out of the way and into the wall.

I was released in a furry of limbs, throw onto the dirty ground. I watched as two figures saved me from the men, punching and kicking at them like dogs forced to fight for scraps.

The men ran away after a few minutes, muttering obscenities and throwing up their fists. I looked up into the honey colored eyes I had fallen in love with. "Are you alright?" A boy asked, a soft looking hand was extended to me, to help me up. I took it gratefully, knowing well there was a blush heating up on my face.

"Thank you, wh-what's your name?" I murmured, embarrassed.

The boy smiled at me, and it almost made me melt right there. Covered in dirt and grime, he was still beautiful. "Ichigo," he laughed, and then pointed behind him. There was a boy much older than us leaning against the wall. He wore a frown, hands tucked in his pockets. He had a peculiar shade of blue hair, sticking out of his eyes and slicked up in the back. I frowned. "And that's Grimmjow. You were lucky; we don't come by here every night. Do you need help getting home?"

I shook my head frantically. "N-no, Ichigo, I'm okay."

He nodded, his short orange spikes shaking with the motion. They looked so soft, I wanted to touch them. I didn't notice, but Grimmjow had moved from his position, standing beside the smaller boy protectively. "You should get lost before it gets later. Those men aren't the only ones interested in pretty little rich girls." He growled when Ichigo elbowed him in the side.

I didn't know what to say to that, so I just nodded, defeated.

When I began walking back, I looked over my shoulder to see Grimmjow reach down and kiss Ichigo's forehead, taking his hand and leading him the other way.

I knew I would never see him again.

The second.

He was terminally sick. I was his doctor.

And still I loved him. It was not a hard thing to do, he was so endearing. He had been in the hospital for months, never getting better and I knew he never would. He was doomed to die in this place. There was nothing I could do but watch. I was compassionate, always doting on him to make him feel better or cheer him up when his family had left. Somewhere deep inside, I was hoping a miracle would occur and he would get better, and then we'd fall in love and get married, because I couldn't help myself from getting attached.

It was ridiculous, but I was nothing if not a dreamer. I knew my little wish would never come true, because he had a lover.

It was on one of the last days of Ichigo's life did I meet him. I was a doctor, and Kurosaki-kun was not my only patient. I was coming out of his room when I was met with resistance. I looked up into startlingly blue eyes, which were glaring back at me.

"Move."

And I did, hesitantly. He rushed to Ichigo's side, grabbing his flimsy hospital gown and lifting him a few inches off the bed. I gasped and made to go over, but stopped at the rough, gravelly voice of Kurosaki-san. "It's okay, Inoue."

He could barely finish before the other man was snarling, fist clenched so hard it was bone white. "_Why the fuck didn't you tell me_, you little prick!"

Ichigo's shaking hand clasped onto his wrist, and both the man and I knew that Kurosaki-san didn't have the strength to stop him. "You were so proud to go abroad, I didn't want to –"

"No! I don't give a shit about that program, I could have… I could have _lived_ without it. The last days of your life and I have to hear it from your father. I came home on the first flight I could get, and I outta fucking beat the shit out you, _why didn't you tell me?"_

I feared for Ichigo's life, but I was too frozen to move.

The blue haired man began to sob, loud and painful, like he wasn't used to feeling such agony. No one is, and I've seen this situation many times. It never gets easier, but for some reason, this just seems worse. I've grown attached to the orange haired boy with such a fierce scowl, barely out of his twenties. And he's dying; my degree in medicine means nothing.

I felt like I was intruding on an intimate moment, and opened the door, sparing one last glance to see the blue haired man hunched over Ichigo's body, face obscured from view while Ichigo rubbed his back soothingly. I smiled at him, and he smiled back softly before I closed the door, leaning back against it. I could feel the prick of tears coming.

Kurosaki-kun died three days later.

The third.

We were engaged to be married. Our families arranged it from our birth. I was excited, because we had met on quite a few occasions, and every time I came away with a little more of myself involved. The marriage was going to be a happy one, because he was everything I had dreamed of as a child. Brave and kind, with warm brown eyes that showed me his soul. I was in love.

The night before our wedding, I snuck out, silly fantasies of seeing him before we were wed glued in my brain.

He lived in a large house on the outskirts of the village, so I knew exactly where to go. I ran, giddy with excitement, hoping he felt this much joy. I reached his house quickly, stopping only to adjust my plain gown.

There was only one floor, and I had been here several times to speak with him. His room was toward the back. I slowly crept forward, smiling as I reached his window, placing my hand on the glass. Before I tapped it I heard a moan and my eyes widened.

There on the bed were two figures, moving together with savoring touches. I couldn't look away, shock had numbed my body.

There on the bed under another man was my beloved Kurosaki-kun. I could only see his face and his arms that were wrapped around broad shoulders under his sheets. I gasped quietly, still having no shame and watching this intimate moment. I could see the man's face clearly, and I instantly knew who it was.

Grimmjow Jaegerjaques. His blue hair was highlighted by the soft moonlight filtering through the window, and he gripped Kurosaki-kun's body like a vice… like they were in love.

"I love you," they whispered, at the same time confirming my thoughts. Kurosaki-kun grinned, his hand brushing away that unruly hair with the same gentleness he used when touching me. Like I was fragile, precious. I was going to be sick.

I could hear Grimmjow's rough voice cut through the resulting silence. "It won't mean anything. If I give you a ring, will you wear it Ichigo?" he smiled, pointy teeth glinting maliciously.

Kurosaki-kun nodded indulgently, placing a soft kiss on the other man's lips. "Whatever you want. You know this wasn't my idea, but I don't have a choice. Inoue-san is a very good woman."

I could feel Grimmjow's eyes roll. "Tch, so is Halibel, but that doesn't mean I love her. You better not either."

Kurosaki-kun chuckled, nuzzling the other's neck. "I would never love anyone but you. I was made for you, remember?"

"Sap."

"Ass."

Finally I stepped away, feeling the burning sting of tears behind my eyes. I ran, not stopping until I felt the bed beneath me.

The next day, I stared at my soon to be husband, but couldn't muster the excitement I once held. He smiled at me, his gaze soft and adoring, but I knew it was a lie. That gaze was meant for someone I could never be. I knew tomorrow he would abandon me, run off with…

Grimmjow.

And there was nothing I could do, nothing.

They had found each other before I could even get a chance.

The fourth.

I was a shinigami, sent on a simple mission to eradicate the last of Aizen's army that had escaped into the realm of the living. The Espada was supposed to be weak, and easy to find. I was the captain of the fourth division, specialized in the arts of healing and my own technique of space and time regression. I was a good candidate.

The Espada was located in Karakura town, hiding out. I felt compassion for it, and I hated dispatching things that were weak. It was not in my nature, but I couldn't disobey orders. I was just surprised they had chosen me, but then nearly all of the other divisions were still healing from the war.

I landed on a rooftop, closing my eyes. The sweet smell of the air had me smiling as I tried to locate the faint reiatsu.

I flash stepped quickly before it was lost, my zanpakto tucked securely by my side. Perhaps I could persuade the Espada to leave and go back to Hueco Mundo. From the report, it hadn't caused any damage so far.

Arriving at a small clinic, I jumped down, expecting the creature to come out at me immediately. I waited a few minutes, but there was nothing. I frowned, pushing my long hair out of the way. Looking around, I didn't see anything out of the ordinary. It was as if the Espada wasn't there. I stepped up to a window, shocked to see a small family eating dinner. Two little girls sat around the circular table, with a dark haired man flailing his arms around and yelling loudly. Beside him sat a frowning orange haired boy, growling out something to the man, his head resting on his palm while his other hand was clasped tightly by another. There was a blue haired man as his side, laughing loudly at something, his head thrown back in mirth.

There was no hollow mask adorning his features like the Espada I had seen.

I knew this Espada. He was the sixth, deadly and violent. How had he escaped? And why did he have a gigai? It didn't make sense.

The Sexta Espada had stopped laughing, nudging the other boy with his shoulder. The boy nodded and they stood, walking up the stairs to another floor. I was curious, nearly shocked. Wasn't this the hollow that had single handedly incapacitated Rukia? Put a hand through her stomach and tried to Cero off her head? I had only heard the horror stories from the Winter War, but they were enough to instill fear in me. The only reason I wasn't afraid now, was because I knew he was weak. I had seen Nnoitra take him out with my own eyes, and saw him lying there on the sands.

But he looked fine now, not a scratch on his… gigai.

I shunpo-ed to the second story of the home and clinic, watching with wide eyes when a bedroom door was thrown open and Grimmjow stepped in, holding the orange haired boy by the waist and kissing him.

Did this child know he was housing an Espada? One of the finest soldier's of Aizen's arrancar army? They were kissing furiously, Grimmjow having thrown the boy on the bed, climbing in after him. I was at a loss to what to do.

I frowned when clothes were thrown off, leaving. What was I going to tell Soul Society? That an arrancar had fallen in love with a human and someone had given him a gigai to encourage their union?

I sighed; they weren't going to be happy.

I couldn't get those eyes out of my head either, and they haunted me as I made the journey back.

The fifth.

I stared down at the injured Espada, my hands shaking from the extent of his wounds. Nnoitra's blade sank deep into his flesh, nearly slicing his body in two.

Kurosaki-kun is fighting him now, fighting to stay alive, to protect us, to protect _him_. Kurosaki-kun is weak from his previous fight, barely scraping past Nnoitra. It hurts me to see him like this, being _tortured_.

There was a deep growl from the ground, and I looked down to see Grimmjow struggling to get up, his snarl peeling his teeth back. He looked crazed, his fists clenched tightly by his side.

"G-Gr-Grimmjow, I'm not finished –"

"Shut up!" he hissed, shakily getting up. "Where the fuck is Kurosaki?"

My shield was still intact, so I wasn't scared. I sighed, shaking my head.

He growled at my reaction, a deep rumbling sound as he shook dirt off his hakama. "I'm gonna murder that motherfucker." For a minute I was convinced he was speaking about Kurosaki-kun, but then he shocked me when he spoke again. "Fuckin' Nnoitra, sticking his skinny ass where it doesn't belong."

And then he was gone.

I could feel something beneath his deranged exterior, something that scared me more than his cruelty ever could.

He and Kurosaki-kun…

There was something deeper between them, and I knew I wouldn't be able to understand it.

I would never understand them.

I heard Grimmjow's words during their fight, and they _burned_.

"_You didn't come here for her; you came here to _fight me."

I wanted to pretend that it wasn't true, but it was hard with the face Kurosaki-kun was making, with that hollow mask, like he was lost and guilty.

I've loved him all along, from the minute I saw him, throwing a giggling Yuzu up in the air at the park when I was thirteen, watching his smiling face, committing it to my memory.

I ached in my longing. I was foolish. So foolish thinking it was Rukia all along. I spent too much wasted time.

It would always be Grimmjow.

End

Ha, this is way longer than the drabble I had intended, it kinda got away from me. I think my favorite is number four. I feel like I should make it a fic to explain how Grimmjow escaped and was found by Ichigo… but eh.

It occurred to me as I was reading the manga…. Orihime doesn't heal Grimmjow while Ichigo is fighting Nnoitra does she? I haven't quite got that far, stopped at vol.32. But I was thinking, she ran and healed Loly and Menoly (or whatever their names were) that Grimmjow ripped apart even though they beat the hell out of her. I think she's jealous haha.

I didn't spend too much time on the setting of each lifetime, so use your imagination. Hoped everyone enjoyed this! Review and tell me your favorite! :3


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